Loss
by magicsunbeam
Summary: POV from Sam after the memorial service


Title: Loss  
  
Author: Magicsunbeam   
  
Email: magicsunbeam@ntlworld.com   
  
Category: Angst / POV Sam  
  
Season: 7   
  
Pairing: none  
  
Rating: G   
  
Warnings: might need a hanky?   
  
Spoilers: Heroes  
  
Summary: Short, not so sweet and begging to be written. (No one has beaten Grandma for me, so any   
  
speelin atesetterer is mine.)  
  
~~*~~  
  
I remember a feeling of shock, surprise even, when I was told she was gone. I felt there had been  
  
some mistake and that she couldn't be dead. After all, this was Janet Fraiser they were talking about.   
  
She was the one who *fixes* people. The one who snatches people back from the jaws of death. The   
  
one who works ferociously and with determination. Who refuses to give upon anyone.   
  
I wanted so badly for it not to be true, and half expected a nurse to come out and say "Sorry,  
  
Dr Warner was wrong, she's alive."   
  
But it didn't happen.   
  
The last time I felt such deep grief was when Daniel `died`. It's like someone drops your emotions   
  
into a paper bag and then gives the bag a good shake. When the shaking stops, you don't know what  
  
to do or say. There is only loss. I know the others are feeling the same way too.  
  
Telling Cassie was the hardest thing I've probably had to do. I really could have used Colonel O'Neill's  
  
help, but at the time he was laid up in the infirmary, barely aware of what had happened. So it was  
  
Daniel who came along to help me break the news.  
  
I didn't have clue what I was going to say, but in the end it didn't matter because she knew. She   
  
knew as soon as she stepped into the house and saw me and Daniel sitting there. I tried to say the  
  
words, but as soon as I opened my mouth she started backing away from me, only stopping when her   
  
back met the door and she could go no further.   
  
I saw her hand go to the door knob and knew she was thinking of running - and who could blame her?   
  
To her credit she stayed put, and for the second time in her short life prepared herself for the   
  
God awful devastation that comes with being told that you have lost your mother.  
  
The look of grief on her face tore at my soul as her eyes filled with tears.  
  
"Cass -- " I had started to say, but she cut me off.  
  
"Tell me she's not dead," she demanded angrily.  
  
When I couldn't say the words she wanted so badly to hear, she turned to Daniel who was standing   
  
a couple of feet away and whispered.  
  
"Daniel, *please*."   
  
The tears started to fall when Daniel couldn't meet her eye, and with the next step I took toward   
  
her, she flew into my arms sobbing.   
  
I never want to have to do that again. Ever.  
  
~~*~~  
  
When the General asked me to say something at the memorial I admit to having had mixed feelings  
  
about it. I so wanted to tell people about the great person we'd lost. The brilliant doctor, the  
  
courageous officer, the dedicated mother -- the warm, funny, compassionate friend. But I was scared.   
  
Scared that no matter what I said, I couldn't find the right words to portray the woman she was.  
  
The *real* Janet Fraiser.   
  
Trust Teal'c, the maker of speeches, to be the one who came up with just the right thing. It would  
  
never have occured to me to look at Janet's life from that angle. It was a pretty big eye opener  
  
to hear just how many people are still walking and breathing because of one womans dedication.   
  
In the end, and with Teal'c's help, I think I did okay. I can only hope I did her justice.  
  
~~*~~  
  
After the memorial was over, I ran. I didn't know where I was running to, but I knew I had to get   
  
out of the room and away from the crowd. I needed space and time to think. Think? Wrong choice of  
  
word. I did't know what to think. God, right then I didn't even know *how* to think. I just knew I   
  
couldn't stay around for meaningless small talk and sympathetic pats of the shoulder.  
  
~~*~~  
  
It doesn't surprise me to find myself in Janet's office. It always was a quiet haven. I lost count  
  
long ago, the hours we've spent in here discussing the world, the universe and it's grandmother.   
  
Depression weighs on me as I slip onto the floor beside the filing cabinet. Drawing my knees up to  
  
my chest, I wrap my arms around them and allow my head to drop. If I close my eyes I can see her   
  
face. I can hear her voice and that insane, infectious giggle. A sob catchs in the back of my throat.  
  
God, I'm going to miss her so much.  
  
A shadow crosses me briefly and I know he's there. I look up to see him silouetted against the light  
  
in the corridor. He doesn't say anything, but after a moment he crosses the room, and with considerable   
  
effort slides down the wall until he's sitting on the cold floor beside me.  
  
I know this is unorthodox, but it's obvious he doesn't care what others may think, so why should I?  
  
Our eyes meet for a moment and I see my own grief reflected. When I turn my head away and try to   
  
stiffle a sob, I feel his arm slip around me. I can't stop the tears now, as he gently   
  
guides me to his shoulder.   
  
Sitting here, something I haven't thought of since I was about ten years old enters my head.  
  
I want my dad.  
  
But he is God knows how many lightyears away, and can't help. So I bury my head into the shoulder  
  
of the next best thing - `uncle` George, and let the tears come freely.  
  
~~end~~ 


End file.
